The Tarnished Knight and the Fairy Princess
by MomotsukiNezumi
Summary: In a family where money is tight and you have to compete with 5 older brothers and that little sister that gets all the attention as the only girl, life isn't easy. In a family where your parents run a bizarre, often ridiculed newspaper and to other kids you're "weird", life's hard too. But maybe it's not so hard when you've got a weird friend to share it with.
1. Prologue: In search of a friend

Prologue: When the Tarnished Knight Met The Fairy Princess

Ron Weasley knew he wasn't anything special. His brothers were all _special_; Charlie worked with dragons, and Bill got to go work with goblins with heaps of gold, and Percy got all the good grades, and Fred and George…well, Fred and George got into heaps of trouble, but they made everybody laugh! Ginny was the only girl, so to Mum and Dad, she's special because of _that_!

But Ron…Ron wasn't special. He couldn't play pranks like the twins, or work with goblins, or dragons, or be a girl, even if his Mum would make him wear dresses before Ginny was born because she'd wanted a girl so badly. He couldn't fly on a broomstick without crashing into something and almost breaking his neck (curse Fred for telling him broomsticks flew by themselves and all the rider had to do was sit on the stupid thing), he couldn't come home after a month at the dragon reserves and tell scary stories about the great bloody beasts, he couldn't take pages and pages of notes without his hand cramping up and getting his nose splattered with ink so Mum would rub his nose with a handkerchief to try and get rid of it before it dried. So, what could _Ron _do?

He knew he was good at chess, being the only one in their family to beat their father in less than a dozen moves. Yet beyond that, there was nothing. Nothing to make his parents proud, nothing to get that look of pride and delight on his Mum's face that she wore whenever Percy brought home all O's, or when Ginny's first word had been "Mummy", or when Bill and Charlie had graduated, or when Bill got a job. Nothing to make his Dad ruffle his hair and say "_My _son can do that!" Nothing, nothing.

And yet he _wanted it. _He wanted it more than _anything_. More than for his Mum to remember that he didn't like corned beef in his sandwiches, or for his Dad to realize that he didn't think that the muggle fascination was stupid or crazy or silly like the grown-ups at work would say. More than riding a broomstick before he got too old, or getting rich when he grew up so his family wouldn't have to worry about money, even.

But perhaps... he didn't want it as much as he wanted a friend. Ron knew that Ottery St. Catchpole, although not the largest town, had enough children that almost every boy and girl, muggle or witch or wizard, had made at least _one _friend. Some even had more, having play dates and sleep overs at each other's houses and walking together to and from school and the grocer's and the candy shop down the road. Fred and George made friends easily, being friendly and outgoing and far too invasive of other peoples' personal space to not be noticed, and even if they played pranks, they still somehow made friends with their prank victim, even if said prank victim called them "a smelly pair of toads!" and threatened to tell their mother. Ginny met several girls a bit younger than her from the primary school downtown, and though they were muggles, that didn't prevent homemade Weasley chocolate-chip cookies and offers to come over and play under the apple trees in the backyard. Ginny even came home one day with her hair braided into little red pigtails by a school friend named Emily. Charlie made friends at work, friends who sometimes accompanied them home to the Burrow to tell tales of all the dragons that Charlie had gotten chased by, and Bill had brought home a girlfriend or two before, though they never seemed to meet his Mum's standards. As for Percy, he'd made a few acquaintances at a study group at school, and had once, on the threat of being hung by his ankles from the attic window by Fred and George, grudgingly admitted that he had "developed some feelings" for a girl named Penelope Clearwater. Ron had seen a photo of her in Percy's room once, hidden in his old striped pillow case with a hole in one side.

Ron wasn't so lucky. Sure, he had a few people who said "hello!" or "good morning!" as he passed them at primary school, and there were plenty of elderly muggle people who'd greet him and ruffle his hair and call him "a little scamp" when he went to the town park to play, and there were sometimes older muggle children who'd take pity on him and let him play tag or rugby or football with them, but that was it. He'd even tried to see if he could make friends with his brother's friends before, but they were all too old, or too big, too grownup to see anyone more than a little boy, their friend's "little brother", the kid lost in a sea of red-headed siblings. They didn't see _Ron_.

Ron didn't _want _to be _just _Ron. He wanted to be special. But the "special" spots were, it seemed, already taken up and crowded by all his siblings. How was he going to find a person who knew him as _Ron_, when there were already so many "special" Weasleys?

Even if it took him the rest of his life, Ron was going to find _someone _who saw him as _him_, not just another Weasley, another redhead, another little brother with freckles and dirt on his nose.

So, with this thought firmly in mind, he decided to go "friend-hunting". He wasn't sure when he'd be back, though hopefully it would before his Mum noticed.

Bill had once told him that the curse-breakers he would work with often had a rucksack of sorts to carry things they needed for a trip, like spare clothes, water canteens, antidotes for venom and poisons, and medicine for any allergies. When he came back from a curse-breaking trip in Albania several weeks later, Ron had been brought back a faded, beat up old rucksack (he'd apparently bought it in a Muggle town on the way to the curse-breaking site) stuffed with pockets, spare compartments, and little survival tools from both the muggle and the wizarding worlds: a small, folded blanket with a heating charm cast on it to keep the wearer toasty warm, a water canteen with replenishing and cooling charms to keep an endless supply of fresh water, a little Swiss army knife that one of Bill's teammates had modified to include cooking utensils and a "lumos" button, and a bizarre-looking compass engraved with a design on the lid of a map of an island with some sort of water fountain in the middle that a muggle trader had sold Bill for a few Knuts, as "the stupid bloody thing was broken and wouldn't ever point north properly!". The bag had even been outfitted with a locking charm to prevent the contents from falling out or being stolen.

Ron remembered vividly that Fred and George had looked on with envy as Bill presented him with the rucksack; the tools in that sack would have surely come in handy for pranking when their Dad would drag them on a "Muggle camping expedition!" (otherwise known as the times when their father would have them sleep outside under the stars and cook hotdogs on sticks, although Fred had once cursed the hotdogs to dance several times so that no one could catch them and eat them.). Their Mum had pitched a fit at Ron being given the sack, saying that Bill shouldn't be giving any of his brothers a knife to use. Dad had been ecstatic, asking eagerly if he could take the rucksack apart to see the Muggle craftsmanship of the stitching. Ginny, at first, had been interested in the rucksack and asked to see inside, but then had grown bored and wandered off to play with the toy bird Bill had brought for her, giggling as the enchanted toy flitted about.

Ron had merely been surprised that it had been_ him _who'd gotten the rucksack. That didn't stop him, though, from going up to Bill and hugging him around the waist, burying his face into the bottom of his brother's ragged, sun-bleached blue shirt to hide the tears suddenly threatening to overwhelm his vision. This wasn't a present for the twins, or Percy, or Ginny, or Charlie, or his parents. It was a present just for _him_.

He'd carried the beaten up thing all day, until at bedtime, when he'd stashed it under his bed. It was shoved in carefully though, not like the old toys and faded quilts under there that wouldn't fit in the attic space. When everyone had gone to bed, he'd whispered to the Ghoul living in the attic, telling the old creature excitedly about his new possession. The Ghoul couldn't really say anything back, but Ron liked to think that he was happy for him all the same. The excitement wouldn't wear off for over a week; Ron walked in a slight daze, carrying the warm feeling around like a well-loved teddy.

It felt _good_ to have things.

Be as it may, the moment that Ron decided to look for his new friend, he just _knew _that he needed to bring the rucksack along too. Slinging the old bag over his shoulder like he'd seen Charlie do to his jacket whenever he left for the dragon reserves, he headed down to the kitchen to grab a snack to take along. Those new apricot tarts his Mum made were wafting a rather enticing smell throughout the house. After all, it wouldn't do to be hungry on his quest, right?

As he walked out of the Burrow, a handkerchief full of tarts knotted up inside a pocket of the rucksack, Ron mentally congratulated himself on thinking of bringing along an extra tart. He hoped his new friend liked apricot.


	2. Chapter 1: Follow the Bongels

Luna Lovegood was not normal.

This was not a surprise to anyone, not even Luna herself. She'd known as far back as she could recall that she wasn't like other children. When muggle girls and boys from the primary school in town would play football or scare the pigeons fed by the elderly people on Sundays, Luna could be found sitting in the shade of a particularly gnarled old elm tree, humming to herself as she wove daisy chains and made acorn tops into little hats as spring presents for the Bowtruckles that lived in the forests near her home. Her Mummy had even taught her a little ditty to sing as she worked:

_Bowtruckles, funny little twiggy creatures,_

_Houses in trees and bugs as dinner,_

_Give them daisies and tops of acorns brown,_

_And they will give you a pretty fairy crown._

Luna had never had a fairy crown before, but she thought it might look pretty on the dolly her Daddy had given her a few months ago. Her dolly was very pretty, with a patchwork dress made from tattered cloth scraps from her Mummy's sewing bin, hair made from yarn the color of white gold, and a pair of little chocolate brown button eyes her Daddy had found outside on morning on the windowsill. He said that fairies must have brought them as a present for her. Luna left out an extra large saucer of fresh milk and cream on the windowsill that night as a thank-you-very-much present.

She knew that other girls her age liked to play with dolls, and have tea-parties and birthday parties with them, and dress them up in fancy doll clothes. She knew that those girls liked to come and show off their dolls to their friends and tell them each others' names so that they could play together at each others' houses. Those girls with dolls had _friends_.

Luna didn't have friends. Luna had a dolly, but when she'd shyly held her out to the other girls and asked to play with them, the oldest girl had told her very bluntly that her dolly looked _ugly_. The other girls had laughed at her, and then had left, saying that the didn't want to play with her because she was _weird. _No _normal_ girl in town sat under elm trees and made hats for magical creatures that no one else saw, after all. The boys were no better; even if they didn't call her names, some of the younger boys had chased her away, yelling that they didn't want to play with girls because girls had "cooties". Luna didn't know what "cooties" were, but it seemed to have infected every girl in town, including her.

Luna hadn't cried about it, but she _had _wondered, when she went home that day, why none of the other children seemed to like her. Her Mummy and Daddy had told her that being weird was wonderful, that being weird let you have fun and be yourself. Being weird meant you didn't have to act like everyone else in order to make them happy.

But to make the other children happy, Luna, it seemed, couldn't play with them at all. Luna had to stay away because Luna was _weird. _Nobody liked _weird_ people.

But Luna _liked _being weird. Weird was fun, at least to her. So, how could she find a friend, when she didn't want to give up being _weird_?

She'd gone to her Mummy and asked her, and her Mummy had told her that, "all the _best_ people in the world are weird, and mad, and wonderful. You're all three, my little Moonpie. You'll find your friend, I promise." Luna had then been hugged, handed a ham, pickle, and cheese sandwich and ushered out the door to go into the sunshine.

So, to find a friend, Luna had to find someone like herself. With this thought in mind, she headed off into the woods behind her house. There was a path in those woods that her Daddy used to look for Flighty Bongels sometimes in the evening, shy little furry blue fluffballs that made the most adorable chirping and humming noises.

The path would lead her to her friend, Luna was sure of it. After all, her Daddy told her only the _best_ people could use it.


	3. Chapter 2: A Light to Lead the Way

Ronald Weasley was lost.

This was not the sort of lost where the person who's lost finds their way back within a few minutes to a few hours at most, or someone finds them. No, this was the sort of lost where nothing seems familiar and everything begins to look rather frightening as the sun goes down, the sort of lost when the monsters that Fred and George claimed to live in the forest would come out to eat children. Ronald Weasley, unfortunately, was experiencing_ that_ sort of lost.

One might think that, seeing as the Burrow was nearby this forest, Ron would be able to remember which way was the right way to get back. The delicious smell of his Mum's unmistakable cooking might also play a part in marking where the Burrow was.

This, sadly, was not the case. Ron had never had a very good sense of direction in the few times he'd gone into these woods before, to collect blackberries with Ginny for their Mum to clean and chop up and make into berry pie, and sometimes to get mushrooms or roots to add to vegetable soup. However, he'd always had someone with him before, and he'd never learned what to do when going alone, because his Mum and Dad always made sure he had company, whether it was his big brothers and sister, or his Dad, as his Mum would stay in the kitchen to watch over the soup most of the time when they made these trips. His Mum had taught his brothers the _lumos _spell for doing this, he remembered, so that if they finished when it was dark, they could find their way back home with a light to guide them instead of crashing into each other, or hitting trees, tripping over roots, or worse, wandering deeper into the forest.

"Wish I'd brought along a torch...", he muttered to himself, shifting the rucksack so the straps didn't cut into his shoulders so much. He wondered if his family had noticed that he hadn't shown up for lunch. Dear Merlin, he wished he'd left after lunch, he was so _hungry._ He'd already eaten the peanut butter sandwich he'd packed, and though the water from the canteen in the rucksack was good, it wasn't really filling. He'd already eaten several of the apricot tarts; there was only one left now, the largest one, the one which he'd brought for his friend. Ron took the tart out of the handkercheif and held it in his hand, hadn't meant to eat _quite _so many, but his Mum's homemade apricot tarts were so tempting, all golden brown baked cookie crust and thick, juicy orange-gold apricot filling, and they _were _rather large, so it wouldn't hurt to eat the last one, right?

...No. He'd brought that apricot tart for his friend, not himself. He couldn't eat it. It wouldn't be fair.

His brothers may call him a pig when it came to good food, but he wasn't _that_ selfish.

Tucking the apricot tart back into the handkercheif and stowing it away in his rucksack again, Ron started walking again, hoping he'd find his friend soon. It was getting rather dark now, the sun a deep golden-red color at the edge of the horizon, and though he'd gone off on his own before if he wanted to play in the meadow or at the park, Ron knew his Mum would worry if he was out too late. He'd better find his friend soon, before it was too dark to get back. Unlike his brothers and parents, Ron didn't have a wand yet, and as far as he knew, he needed a wand to cast a _lumos _spell with to see if it got too dark. Maybe that "lumos" button on the Swiss army knife in his rucksack would work.

Well, it couldn't hurt to try, right?

Putting the rucksack on the ground, Ron pulled open the main compartment and felt around with his hands, grinning as his fingers closed around the cool metal of the Swiss Army knife. Pulling the knife from the compartment, he examined the tool, trying to figure out where the "lumos" button was. Noticing a little yellow bump on the bottom of the hilt, Ron experimentally pressed his thumb against it. The top of the knife suddenly opened up and a little ball of soft, fuzzy yellow light popped out. Ron, entranced by the sight, held out his hand, pressing it against the little ball of light to see if it was real. The pale, freckled skin of his hand felt something warm, slightly soft, and, to his delight, solid. Closing his hand around the light, he saw thin yellow beams protrude from the spaces between his fingers. Opening his hand up again, the ball of light floated an inch or so above the middle of his palm. Trying to throw the light to see if it would dissappear did nothing except cause the light to shoot back into his palm like a boomerang.

The young boy grinned. "Blimey..."

Mentally thanking Bill for such a useful present, he closed up the rucksack, swung it up and onto his shoulders once more, and started walking again, holding the little yellow light out to help see. His friend would be _so _impressed that he had _this_!


	4. Chapter 3: Hello, New Friend

Luna had been walking along the path for some time now, and had started nibbling on part of her sandwich, offering the pickles to the little Bongels hopping about in the bushes along the side of the path. Luna loved pickles, but as her Daddy had told her that the Bongels loved pickles too, she could share if it would make them happy.

Most children would likely be frightened of being in the forest all alone at so late a time, but Luna didn't mind. She didn't feel scared. The Bongels were still here, and as they were so shy they would no doubt have left if something scary was coming. There were fireflies coming out too, filling the air with little flickering yellow lights. The air was cool but not overly so, and the sunset was a pretty fiery gold color in the distance beyond the trees.

Luna wondered when she would meet her friend. What would that person be like, she wondered? Would she be able to bring her friend home to her parents and have play dates and sleep overs like the muggle children bragged about? Would her friend believe her about all the creatures she and her parents saw? Would her friend tease her over her dolly?

Luna knew that most children her age didn't like to play with children who weren't the same gender as them, believing that the other side had "cooties".

She didn't care. She had cooties too, after all.

Walking serenely along the path, the young girl continued on her way, suddenly noticing that the Bongels were squeaking and quivering, rushing forward in what looked almost like a great blue furry carpet.

_I wonder what they're so excited about. _

A light up ahead was slowly growing more and more visible, and to Luna's faint surprise, and slowly growing delight, there was a _person _on the other end: a red-headed boy who looked about her age, with a beaten up rucksack slung over his thin shoulders, and a ball of fuzzy yellow light in his hand.

Said boy almost dropped the light he was holding as the Bongels swarmed around his feet and began hopping up his body to rest on his shoulders, on the rucksack, in his trouser pockets, and even in his tangled, flaming red hair. Luna giggled, knowing that the little furry blue creatures were curious and meant no real harm. Her Daddy had told her that if they really, really liked a person, they'd come right up to them and use them as a place to sleep (as they were very shy, this meant that the Bongels trusted that person enough to stay close to them.).

It appeared that the boy, however, didn't know that the Bongels meant no harm, and was instead either appearing, at least to Luna, to be either panicking, or doing a very strange dance that involved hopping all over the place, saying several muffled words that Luna knew that adults usually only said when they were really, _really _mad, and shaking himself in an attempt to rid himself of the little furry fluffballs. This was useless, as the Bongels merely pressed themselves more firmly to his body and began chattering in what appeared to be delight at the rapid movements, rather like muggle children on amusement park rides.

Luna giggled softly. It seemed that this boy would be very interesting.

Ron was not having a good time of things. He was cold and tired, he'd missed supper, he had twigs in his hair and leaves down his shirt that his Mum would have kittens over, he had no idea which part of the forest he was in, and now he was covered in what looked to be great fuzzy blue balls of fur that _purred. _His brothers would poke fun at him for weeks, he just knew it.

No, he was _not _happy, not a single bit. Perhaps it would be better to look for a friend tomorrow. Now if he could just find out where he was, maybe that girl could tell him...

Wait, a girl? There were no girls in the forest! At least, there were no human ones. Maybe this was a fairy or elf child in front of him, like in his Mum's bedtime stories. She said that sometimes faeries and small bands of elves would live in the more secretive forests...

If so, should he bow, perhaps? Was this a princess of some sort? She certainly looked like one, anyway, he decided, with her long hair like white-gold, porcelain skin, and those big, pale eyes that stared at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world...

Ron could feel himself turning red all the way to the tips of his ears. She was _looking _at _him. Him._ What would he do? What should he say? He suddenly felt very aware of the fact that he was grimy, with twigs in his hair, and covered in those little blue furry things.

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask for directions. _She_ didn't seem to be scared of the forest. In fact, she seemed very happy, smiling and _oh Merlin she was running right at him!_

It was instinctive: Ron held out his arms to catch her as she rushed forward. He'd done this when Ginny was learning how to walk; everyone in the family had come together in a circle and encouraged Ginny to try and walk towards one of them. His Mum had told him to hold out his arms and wait for her to come closer, to help her up if she stumbled too much, and to tell her to keep going until she made it to his arms. He'd never told anyone but his Mum, because well, it was his _Mum,_ and Ginny herself when she'd first accomplished it (after all, she was too little to remember him saying it), but he'd been so _proud _that _he_ was the one that Ginny had walked to.

So when Luna slammed into him, he did what he'd done when Ginny had made it: he wrapped his arms around her in a hug to keep her from falling down, and said, "_Good job_."

In his arms, Luna smiled and hugged back. Her friend was clearly very happy with her. "Thank you."

Ron looked down slightly to get a better look at the person he was holding. At the same time, Luna looked up.

One thing ran through their minds: _I've found my friend. _


	5. Chapter 4: To Give Is To Recieve

After a while, Ron realized that it he'd been hugging the girl in his arms for a bit _too _long. Unwrapping his arms from around her slender frame, he stared for a moment at the person who he'd already decided, at least in his mind, was his friend. The pale, narrow face and large, silver grey eyes, wide and shining like the moon, looked back at him, unblinking, as a tentative smile began to appear on her face. Ron felt his ears burn; _why _did she keep staring at him? Surely he wasn't _that _interesting...

"Luna." Ron started out of his thoughts in surprise as the girl spoke. "Sorry, what'd you say?" She kept staring at him, those eyes were becoming a tad creepy... "That's my name," she continued, seemingly under the impression that he'd misheard.

"Oh." _Stupid, stupid, stupid, can't even go five minutes without messing up. She said her name and I didn't even NOTICE? Argh..._

"It's alright, you know. You don't have to be upset, I can repeat it until you remember, if you want." The girl, Luna, was calm, complacent, still smiling at him. Ron wondered vaguely if she thought he was stupid or something, it would explain why she was so nice to him. It would be pity, then, right? Because no one his own age ever was this nice to him, not for too long anyway, once they saw his siblings were more fun, more interesting, more _Weasley _than him.

Deciding that to break the increasing silence was better than simply standing there like some sort of blooming idiot, he replied quietly, "Um, no, that's ok, you don't have to say it again, I'll remember it. My name's Ron."

Luna's gentle gaze shone with mirth as she said cheerfully, "That's a nice name. It means "ruler's counselor", did you know that?"

_No, no I didn't. What's that mean anyway, a "ruler's counselor"? _

Seeing his confused expression, Luna smiled and explained, "It means someone who gives advice to the king, and sometimes to other people. It's a name for people who can be counted on to give help to people that ask for it."

Ron wished his ears didn't burn when he was embarrassed. He swore inwardly that they'd become so red by this point that he'd be able to stand out like some sort of ruddy beacon for ships. She'd explained something to him without being rude or uppity about it, and here he was, tongue-tied as if he'd been hit by one of his brother's attempts to imitate their Mum's silencing charms. _Dang it, Weasley, say something, she told you something nice, aren't you supposed to say something nice back? _

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them: "Yeah, and your name means "moon"."

Silence followed for a moment; Ron wondered if there was a spell out there to remove the foot he seemed to keep getting caught in his mouth, as it seemed clear that he couldn't stop doing stupid things.

Then Luna laughed, a lovely little bell-like chime sort of sound, and the weight on his shoulders lifted. _Maybe I'm not so bad at this friend thing after all. _

His stomach, having been deprived of supper, growled loudly. Ron swore again inwardly; _why _did he have to be so darn awkward?

"Sorry," he said gruffly. "I didn't eat supper before I came out here..." Luna stared at him for a second, as if thinking of something, before suddenly grinning widely and producing, as if by magic, a half-eaten sandwich from the pockets of her powder blue jumper. Ron stared at the food, oozing cheese and bits of ham and a few crisp green pickles, and realized, to his further embarrassment, that he'd actually started _drooling. _

But...this wasn't his family's food. He couldn't ask for it, it wasn't his. And it wasn't as if he could ask to share with her, it was her sandwich, after all. He fingered the straps on his rucksack nervously. He could give her the tart, he had saved it for his friend, after all. And Luna was his friend now, he was sure of it. But a tart wasn't really a fair trade for a sandwich...

Luna smiled understandingly at him, before holding the sandwich out. "I don't know if you'd like it, but since I already ate half of this, I'm full. You can have the rest if you like. Do you have anything to split for dessert, maybe?"

If he didn't think that kissing girls was gross, Ron might've kissed her, just for saying that. Finally, he'd found someone who was willing to split the food, instead of making him feel awkward from an uneven trade.

Gratefully accepting the sandwich from Luna, he broke the tart in half and watched in nervous anticipation as she looked over the treat, before taking a small bite. Silvery grey eyes lit up like a newly revealed full moon, and a single word broke apart his anxiety as his friend let out a gleeful exclamation of "_Yummy!_", and proceeded to devour her half of the tart, crumbs spilling out of her pale hands and onto the ground, where the nearby Bongels quickly swarmed them, letting out little high-pitched squeaks of delight at the new food.

Ron smiled in relief, before taking a large bite from his newly acquired sandwich. _Best. trade. ever._


	6. Chapter 5: It's Not Ugly

It was nearly light out, the sun slowly peeking out as a sliver of gently darkening gold when they finally made it back. Ron had proudly held his little _lumos _ball aloft in the darkened gloom of the forest, and Luna had somehow managed to get hold of one of his hands, and seemed quite unwilling to let go. Dismissing it as a need for comfort in the current environment (and he couldn't blame her for that, it _was _kind of creepy out here, though not so bad with Luna and those fuzzy things around), he merely squeezed her hand a bit in assurance, before continuing on, not letting go of the slight warmth her pale fingers provided.

The Bongels made a strange sort of procession around them, hopping onto Luna's shoulders and hair, and hiding in the pockets of her jumper. Ron, still somewhat covered in the Bongels he hadn't been able to shake off, wondered vaguely if they were just cold and wanted some body heat. It was a bit nippy out...

Darn it, it was silent again. He wondered if he should speak up, to break the quiet. The thought was dismissed soon after; why should he break it? It was so comfortable. At home, the Burrow always was so full of noise that he would sometimes wonder if the muggles down the road could hear it. Fred and George's explosions from their prank experiments (the ones that their Mum would always yell at them for), his Dad's tinkering with muggle stuff in the toolshed (the lawnmower he'd scavenged from the community dump several miles away had been broken, so he'd tried to fix it), the scratching of Percy's quill as he wrote essays at night, Ginny's laughter as she babbled on to their Mum as dinner was served, their Mum's cheerful hums and snatches of old songs as she knitted sweaters and darned socks for them all...

There was never a quiet moment at the Burrow, at least not that he could remember. The silence was refreshing.

He looked back at the girl beside him, and wondered about her. He hadn't really learned anything about her besides her name, and that she was nice enough to share things, and (if her reaction to his Mum's tarts was anything to go by), she liked apricot. But that was it, really.

_What do you ask a girl, even if she is your friend? How do you get to know someone like that? _

Yet again, it seemed as if Fate was being kind to him. Luna pulled out what looked to be a small, well-loved doll in a dress of cloth scraps, with yarn for hair and buttons for eyes. She hugged it to her chest gently, lovingly. _Hmm, looks handmade too. Maybe her Mum made it for her? _

_"_Do you like her?", she asked quietly. Ron looked at her, confused. What was wrong with the doll that he wouldn't like it?

He'd seen dolls before, Ginny and her muggle friends had played tea-party and house with them often enough that even he could understand, even if only a little, that most girls Luna's age liked to play with them. But he'd never seen a doll so..._interesting _before. The dolls he'd seen girls play with were all somewhat similar, with the same black or blonde or red hair, same flower print dresses and tiny shoes, same blue eyes and vacant expression. Those dolls were always the same, he'd never understood why girls would want to play with them.

But this doll...this doll was different. Especially since Luna was clutching the doll to her chest as if it was made of solid gold. And it _was_ sort of pretty, he supposed, with its shimmery dress of different colored cloth scraps, and the fine yarn for hair, and those button eyes _were_ sort of cute, if you liked that sort of thing...

"Yeah", he said quietly. "Yeah, I like her."

"Really?", Luna whispered, so softly that if Ron wasn't standing right next to her, he wouldn't have heard it. "You really mean it?"

Ron nodded. He found that he really _did_ mean it.

The smile that Luna gave him in thanks made Ron feel as warm as if he'd worn all the sweaters his Mum had ever knitted, all at once. The coldness of the air didn't seem quite so bad anymore.


	7. Chapter 6: Come Inside, It's Cold Out

The two children headed up to the gate of the Burrow. Ron had reluctantly let go of Luna's hand, explaining to her that his brothers would poke fun at him for holding hands with a girl. He was glad that Luna was so understanding; she'd nodded, expression serious, and let go of his hand at once. However, her words confused him slightly.

"I'm afraid to say that Wrackspurts must have gotten to your brothers, Ronald."

When he'd asked her what this meant, she'd explained to him that Wrackspurts were tiny little creatures that floated into a person's ears and made their brain "go fuzzy", so they would potentially act spastic, out of control, overemotional, or put far too much importance on certain things, such as the idea that girls were "icky" and thus one must not hold hands with them, at least not somewhere where they'd be seen. Upon asking how they were affecting his brothers when he'd never seen them, Luna told him that they were invisible. "Daddy gave me a pair of special glasses to see them with, he called them "Spectraspecs". I can make you a pair if you like."

Ron had not been entirely convinced that these "Spectraspecs" were going to useful, especially when Luna described their appearance as a pair of horned pink patterned spectacles with funny glass for the lenses, but Luna seemed far too serious about the Wrackspurts to be lying. Luna didn't seem like the sort of person who'd lie, so it was better to be safe than sorry, right? He'd agreed to take her up on her offer, and they'd shaken hands on the deal, like he'd seen Ministry workers do when negotiating with his Dad.

Both of them had headed up the Burrow door, which flung open to reveal a tearful Molly Weasley, who grabbed Ron in a bear-hug and began alternating towards babbling concerns and checking to see if he was alright, and scolding him as if it was the end of the world. "Honestly, Ronald, what where you thinking? What if you'd gotten lost in the woods and ended up hurt? It's too dark out to go off on your own! Something in there could've attacked you!"

"_Mum_, I'm fine! Luna was with me!", he shouted, trying to breathe through his mother's well-meaning but crushing embrace. His Mum may give great hugs, but when she got upset, she could squeeze like a boa constrictor!

"Luna? Luna Who?", his Mum asked, standing back and looking about before catching sight of the little girl with dirty-blonde hair standing patiently a few feet away. A look of recognition flitted across her face. "Oh, hello, dear. You're Xenophous' little girl, aren't you?" Luna nodded silently. "Well, come on in then, it's cold out and you'll catch your death out there in only that jumper. I've made some beef stew tonight, would you like some?" Another nod.

Beckoning softly, she went back inside, reminding Ron not to go wandering off again, and to leave the door unlocked so his brothers and father could come back into the house, as she'd send them out to search for Ron earlier while she tried to convince Ginny that "no, your brother isn't going to be eaten by werewolves, your brothers and your father are out looking for him.". Ginny had, according to his Mum, decided to stay up to for when the others got back from searching, so as to make sure for herself that Ron hadn't been eaten by any of the big scary things that Fred and Geroge had said lived in the forest. Since it was now light out, she'd ended up sleeping on the couch, having finally nodded off, despite her best efforts, an hour or so after the Weasley search party went out. Ginny had curled up in her sleep into a little ball, the quilt and blanket covering her now bunched up under her chin, her vibrant red hair peeking out from the edges.

Ron started to go inside, before realizing that something was wrong: Luna wasn't following him. Turning around, he motioned for her to come in, but she shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she held out her hand. Ron stared at his friend, puzzled. "What're you holding your hand out for? I'm not going to hold it or anything, if that's what you want. What if someone sees? Now come in, it's freezing out." Luna shook her head, replying, "We made a deal, remember? I won't hold your hand when your brothers are around."

"So?"

Luna grinned at him. "Well, I don't see any other Weasley boys here, do you?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but closed it upon realizing that Luna was right. Returning her grin, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the warmth of the Burrow, making sure she got inside first before he shut the door.


	8. Chapter 7: The Tarnished Knight

Ron and Luna were both ushered into the kitchen, handed bowls of piping hot beet stew, and told to sit at the table while Ron's Mum cleaned them up. Luna sat next to Ron, tapping a staccato beat against her stew bowl with her spoon, humming softly. Ron was quiet, suffering through his Mum's examinations of his wellbeing with a sort of quiet dignity, and instead turned his attentions to eating his food. When she'd satisfied herself that they were alright, the redheaded matriarch went to the sink and began washing the plates and glasses from the meal she's shared with Ginny.

It was halfway through the meal that Molly Weasley realized that there was no bread for Luna. As she hadn't expected any guests to come over, there wasn't any bread left over if her boys were to each get a helping. She fretted over what to do; she'd already had supper with Ginny earlier, while they'd stayed up waiting for Ron to be brought back. Now there wasn't enough bread for Luna to have some with her stew, and even if she was rather small, Luna still needed more than a bowl of stew for supper, she and Ron had been out all night in the woods.

Looking up from the sink where she'd been washing dishes, she opened her mouth to apologize to Luna for the lack of bread, remained silent at the sight that met her eyes: Ron looked up from his food (an unusual sight in itself) and noticed Luna didn't have any bread with her stew. His brow furrowed in apparent thought for a moment, before Molly Weasley saw, to her silent delight, Ron tear his bread into uneven halves and pass Luna the larger piece under the table. Luna accepted the bread without saying anything, but she gave Ron's fingers a slight squeeze in thanks before dunking the bread hunk in her remaining stew and munching away.

_Well, I'll be. My little Ronald's learned to share, and with Xenophous' little girl, no less! I'll have to thank her. _

After supper was over, both children placed their cups, plates, and spoons in the sink. Luna offered to clean up, but was given a gentle but firm refusal, and told to go play upstairs. She'd nodded her head and taken hold of Ron's hand, something Molly noticed he didn't object to whatsoever, and promptly led her youngest son upstairs, talking quietly, and occasionally laughing.

Ron's bedroom was at the top of the house, under the attic, and was the smallest bedroom of the Weasley children. Ron warned his friend beforehand that upon entering his room, she was likely to be blinded by an extremely high amount of eye-watering orange. Luna had merely smiled at him, remarking that orange was a good color for inspiring creative ideas. Not sure what to make of this, as he'd never had an idea that he thought anyone would consider "creative", Ron opened the door and let Luna inside the somewhat cramped space. "Sorry if there's not much room," he said quietly, "but there's a lot of us living here, so my folks had to make do." _Great, now I sound like a ruddy charity case. What's she going to think of me? _

Silvery-grey eyes merely stared at him for a moment, not so much as an ounce of pity in them, before Luna replied, "Well, I think it's just great. I've never seen a house so interesting before; all the little rooms and all the stuff squished together, it makes a very energetic aura in here! You're very lucky."

Ron stared at her. "You know," he said, "I've never really met a girl quite like you. Other kids would probably tease me over something like this, but you...you just spout the most ridiculous, amazing things. And they're bloody _brilliant_."

Luna stared at him for a long moment. Then she took hold of his hand again, and yanked him forwards, causing him to tumble into a heap on the floor. "Oi, what was that for!?", he hissed, looking up at her to give a mild glare.

Luna gave him a sad, worried look. "You're babbling, Sir Ronald, the Wrackspurts must've gotten to you."

"What do you mean, I'm babb-...oh crud, you mean that those things are buzzing around inside my head!?", he said, alarm rising. Luna nodded seriously. "Don't worry," she said, "I know how to get rid of them." She demonstrated by waving her arms about her head, flapping her hands back and forth in front of her face and by her ears, as if swatting away flies or mosquitoes. "Try that for a bit, it should drive them off."

Ron nodded and began waving his hands about his head. A few moments later, Luna nodded and said, "It's ok, you can stop now. I think you drove them off. But just to make sure they don't come back, let's make you a pair of Spectraspecs to help you see with." She began rooting about his room, looking for things to put together to make the Spectraspecs. Ron wondered vaguely if he should stop her, but decided to let it pass. Luna didn't seem like the type of person who'd be fazed by a few pairs of dirty underwear, after all.

After a bit, upon asking if he could join in, Luna had nodded, telling him that he should help, as Spectraspecs always worked better if the person who was to wear and use them got involved in making them. "It's more powerful that way," she'd explained, "Your magic will run through it and the glasses will become attuned to your energy, so it will work better for you." Ron had then been handed a piece of cardboard, two glass orange and cherry pop bottles (which had been emptied of said pop several weeks earlier, during a hot afternoon by the pond in the backyard), and a bit of wire Luna pulled out of her jumper pocket.

Ron knew better than to ask what his friend was planning to do with the items to turn them into Spectraspecs, so he'd put them on his bed, and then began digging around in a pile of his dirty clothes by the door, rummaging in trouser pockets and holding up his findings for Luna to inspect. The shiny two pence and the bit of old string were rejected, but a small green and blue marble was accepted, as well as a shiny, blue-tinted raven's feather he'd found out on the windowsill one morning while cleaning the attic.

When they'd found everything that Luna claimed they needed to make the Spectraspecs, Luna and Ron cross-legged on his bed, facing each other, the spoils of their hunt spread out between them: the piece of cardboard, the pop bottles, the bit of wire, the green and blue marble, the raven's feather, and, at Luna's request, a strand of hair from each of them "to tie the whole thing together properly, so the next time I come over, I can see out of them too."

Ron tried not to get too excited about the idea of a "next time". It wouldn't do for Luna to see him _too _happy about it, after all. She'd probably think he was being affected by the Wrackspurts again, for being "overemotional".

Luna held her hand out over each of the items; to Ron's shock, he could see each item glowing a faint golden color. The cardboard began warping, slowly twisting itself into the shape of a basic pair of thick spectacles, the pop bottles squeezing themselves into a pair of round lenses, one orange, one cherry red. The green marble and raven's feather melted into a shiny puddle of some sort of jelly-like substance, oozing across the bedcovers and onto the spectacles frames to form a "paint" of some kind, and then having small "wings" form on either side of the lenses, almost like eyelashes. The bit of wire twined itself with the bits of hair from Luna and himself, forming a sort of braid, which wrapped itself around the glasses frame and melted away, oozing across the entire frame until the entire thing was an odd, off-orange color with hints of grey and dirty-blonde yellow. A few seconds passed, and then the "paint" began changing colors, turning a light purplish-pink and gaining little specks of lavender across it. The pop bottle lenses turned a golden-pink color, and gained small gauges in an outwards circular shape, like spots of pain being arranged into the shape of a flower. The gauges eventually filled out and vanished entirely, leaving behind only the mark of their shape, now the color of lavender as well.

Seeing Ron's open-mouthed expression of surprise, Luna said simply, "My Daddy taught me how to do this. Neat, isn't it?" He nodded, too dumbstruck to find his voice. After a few moments, she picked up the Spectraspecs and put them on his face, saying, "Here, try them on."

Ron stared. He stared, and stared, and _stared_. In his entire life, he'd never seen anything like this.

His entire room was glowing a faint golden color, which Luna explained meant that it was full of magic absorbed from him over the years. The air was literally _vibrating_ with magical energy, small sparks of blue electricity popping up in air around himself and Luna. And there were creatures. _Lots _of creatures.

The Wrackspurts, from what he could now see, were tiny little things, and rather furry, with little folded over ears like those on a Scottish Fold cat, and small, translucent oil-slick rainbow wings like those found on houseflies. They had two tiny, oval-shaped furry feet, looking like a kitten's, and a little black nose like a puppy's, and a little pink tongue. A pair of tiny, jewel-bright eyes stared at him as one flew right in front of his face. Ron stared at the Wrackspurt. The Wrackspurt stared back.

By Merlin, he'd never seen such eyes before; it was as if he was drowning in them, drowning in what he could _see _in them. Those eyes were _old_, he could tell, much older than anyone he knew. Visions of far-off rolling green hills, deep fields of sweet grasses and colorful wildflowers, huge, towering trees with branches that bottled out the sun, clouds so high up the world looked like a child's playset, golden beaches and seashells with endless, twisting spirals...

"Ron, stop looking! They're too strong!" Luna's voice suddenly snapped him out of his trance, as she pulled him away and sat behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she said to the Wrackspurts, much like a parent scolding a misbehaving child, "Stop it, he's not for your amusement. It's not very nice to send someone into your memories, and you know it."

Ron blinked several times as he tried to come back to himself. "Wha...what just happened?", he said, surprised to find his voice suddenly hoarse.

Luna patted him on the shoulder, saying quietly, "Next time, don't look into their eyes. They've got some strong little tricks to pull on people."

Nodding weakly, he mumbled an, "Ok," and pulled the Spectraspecs off. Immediately, the colors around him ceased, the Wrackspurts vanishing as if they had never been. Trying to shake off the bizarre, otherworldly feeling from earlier, he pulled out his old chess set and asked Luna of she wanted to play. She nodded.

The chess set was rather old, the stone and wood worn in some places from age and use, but the figures still worked quite well. Luna stared at him for a moment as he chose the Knight as he primary chess piece. "What is it?", he asked.

"It's tarnished", she said quietly, pointing to the piece's rainbow patina. Ron felt his ears burn. _I must look like an idiot, playing with such an old set, there's newer models out anyway...Maybe I should've polished this set earlier..._

"It's alright, you know."

"Wh..what?", he asked, looking up at her. "It's alright to have something tarnished, it means that the outer layer is protecting the layers underneath, it keeps the metal of the whole thing from reacting. In many places, this is a good thing. And plus, the rainbow sheen is kind of pretty."

Ron stared at her for a moment before grinning slightly. "Again," he repeated to her, "Bloody _brilliant_."


	9. Chapter 8: Stew and a Sleepover

As they didn't have any extra beds, and Ginny had fallen asleep on the couch and Molly didn't have the heart to wake her up, she made up a bed on the floor of the living room for Luna. The makeshift sleeping area, a spare pillow and a blanket on top of a cot made up of several layers of thick quilts as a stand in for the lack of an actual mattress, was quietly accepted by Luna, although when his Mum wasn't looking, Ron passed Luna the Spectraspecs to look through so that she could be sure she wasn't spending the nightsleeping in the middle of a Wrackspurt infestation. "It's a very serious thing, you know," she told him, "I noticed on my way down here that your brothers' rooms are absolutely _infested _with Wrackspurts. Perhaps you could lend them your Spectraspecs, so they can see how big of a problem it's become."

Ron wondered, as he helped Luna look over her temporary bed, if that was why his brothers always teased him. Wrackspurts were supposed to make peoples' brains "go fuzzy", so that might be a reason why they always took the mickey out of him...

After he'd helped Luna with her bed, Molly came in and told both children to go upstairs to wash up, put on their pajamas, and brush their teeth. When she came upstairs to check on them to see if they'd finished, she was greeted with the sight of Ron, his face covered in toothpaste foam, making exaggerated funny faces and grunting, apparently for the the amusement of Luna, who was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, giggling, a blue plastic toothbrush dangling from one hand.

Molly hid behind the bathroom doorframe, a hand held over her mouth to muffle the giggles that threatened to burst forth. _My Ronnie's finally found someone to be friends with._

A little while later, a very loud chime from the Weasley family clock suddenly resounded throughout the Burrow, and downstairs, the faint creak of the door opening could be heard. Ron spun around, eyes wide, before he ran out the door, Luna trailing behind barefoot in an old nightgown of Ginny's that Molly had used a mild _Engorgio _charm on to fit Luna's slightly larger body.

Arthur Weasley, with his five other sons trailing dejectedly behind him like old leaky party balloons, clutched his wool cap in his hands, his fingers nervously twisting the woolen fabric in knots as he tried not to let despair overwhelm him. His youngest son still hadn't been found, and it was morning now, hours and hours since Ron had vanished. What would he say to Molly? How could he bear to tell her that one of their children was missing, and _still_ was missing?

Knocking on the door, he prepared to meet his fate.

He was promptly bowled over by the very boy he'd been searching for, along with a small girl in an old nightgown and a distinct lack of shoes or socks.

A few moments later, once Ron and Luna had been pulled off him and he'd been helpthe up off the ground, Molly managed to explain to her husband what had happened since he and the others had left. As she talked with Arthur, Luna vanished back into the house, to return several minutes later, her pale arms laden with several full bowls of beef stew, which she handed out to each of Ron's brothers. Ron, taking note of this, blinked, before a look of understanding crossed his face. He dashed back inside, reappearing at the door a bit later, balancing a few bowls of stew in the crook of one arm, and the bread his Mum had set aside in the other. He walked forwards, rather stiffly so as not to jostle the food, and everyone who hadn't already eaten earlier or taken a bowl of stew from Luna took a bowl and a hunk of bread.

After the impromptu meal, everyone headed back into the house, a half-asleep Ginny, who'd been awoken by the noise, catching sight of her reunited family and running forwards to get a hug and reassurance that everyone was okay. The Weasley family and Luna then sat down in the living room, the twins sitting on the couch with Bill and Charlie, Ginny sitting squished between her parents in the armchair, and Luna and Ron sitting side by side on Luna's makeshift bed next to an awkward-looking Percy, whom Luna had offered a seat when all the other seats above the floor were taken up.

A few moments of silence went on as everyone got comfortable, before Ginny managed to wiggle her way out of the armchair and dashed over to Ron, slapping him upside the head and hissing, "Git! Why'd you go off like that? You got us worried sick! I had to stay here with Mum and wait for you to get brought back, and you didn't! I didn't even know you'd gotten home until all the noise at the door woke me up! You let me think you'd got eaten by werewolves, you moron!"

Ron merely rubbed the back of his now rather sore head, staring with a dumbfounded expression at his younger sister. _Ginny had been that worried about me? She's that upset?_

"I'm sorry, Gin," he said gruffly, "I didn't mean to make you so upset." Ginny leveled a glare at him, but it was a mild glare; she'd already forgiven him simply by finding him alive and in one piece, instead of in some forest animal's guts. She walked up and gave him a quick, but firm hug, before taking her seat between their parents again, muttering an audible, "Don't think that this is it, I'm _still _cross with you."

But Ron could tell she didn't really mean it.

"Well, I think that's more than enough excitement for tonight, hmm?", Arthur said, looking around at each of his children, who nodded. With a quick round of "G'night", the boys headed off to their rooms, Ron receiving a few hair ruffles from Bill and Charlie, a promise of pranking from the twins for making them go out at night to search for him, and a promise of a lecture on safety from Percy. Ginny gave Ron a one-armed hug and another hit to the back of the head, causing her to be scolded on the way up the stairs by their Mum, who'd given Ron a kiss on the forehead before ascending the rickety staircase. Arthur gave his son a stern look, reminding him not to go out alone again, before giving him a quick hug and pat on the shoulder. He then followed the rest trooping to their rooms.

Ron was about to head back to his own bedroom when he felt a soft tug on his wrists. Turning around, he saw Luna staring silently back, a question in her large, silvery-gray eyes: _Stay down here with me__? _

He looked doubtfully at the makeshift bed; it couldn't really fit more than one person, and he wasn't going to spend the night all squished. And his Mum would have kittens if she found him sleeping with a girl.

An idea suddenly popped into his head. Muttering a quick, "Half a tic, be right back," to his friend, he dashed up the stairs and to his room, rummaging around. A minute or so later, he hurried back down the stairs, clutching the pillow and blanket from his bed. "Sleepover?", he asked.

"Sleepover", Luna said in affirmation, nodding appreciatively at the blanket's violent shade of orange.


	10. Chapter 9: The Fairy Princess, Finite

When Ron woke up the next morning, he felt an uncomfortable wet sensation on the lower half of his body, and one of hands was wet. _Oh Merlin, please tell me I didn't wet the bed, please, please..._

Looking under the blankets, he found no such luck. His pajama trousers were soaked, and the was an awful, painfully familiar smell coming from the soiled fabric. Letting out a groan of embarrassment, he turned around under his blanket, trying to get up without waking up Luna. If she woke up amd saw that he'd wet the bed, he'd probably die of embarrassment.

As he slowly shimmied out from under the violently orange fabric, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye: a small glass was sitting next to the side of his orange blanket, and the glass was full of tap water...which his hand must have been dipped in sometime while he'd been sleeping last night. Remembering the twins' threats of pranking from the night before, he shuddered. _Fred, George, you gits, I'm going to get you back good for this!_

Getting free of the blanket, Ron crept back up the stairs, heading straight for his room in search of a new, dry pair of trousers. There were none. All of his clothes were either in the wash, were faded, torn in places, or full of holes. A quick check of clothes hamper yielded no trousers either, only a few dirty pairs of Fred and George's socks.

But he couldn't find his trousers. His Mum would be upset with him if she woke up and found him standing only in a shirt and boxers._ Where, in the name of Merlin, are my bloody trousers? Can't even find one bloody pair of trousers..._

There was a sudden soft thump by the landing, and Ron turned around to see Luna, staring at him, unfazed at the red-headed boy in his undergarments. She wasn't laughing, though. She wasn't poking fun at him.

She was holding a pair of trousers in her hands. "I found them in the wash last night, after I heard your brothers telling you they would prank you. Funny pair of boys, those twins. They didn't even notice me go up to the hamper to get a pair of trousers that aren't even mine."

Ron stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before taking the offered garment and muttering, "Thanks", grinning widely at her.

As far as friends go, he decided, Luna was definitely a keeper.

Dashing off to the bathroom, he changed clothes instantly. When he returned, he saw the top of Luna's head disappear as she descended the staircase. Stumbling down the steps in his haste, he grabbed hold of the banister to keep from falling, and leaned over it to see Luna standing in the kitchen, setting places at the table for breakfast. She looked up from setting down cutlery at his Dad's place, and smiled at him. There were several dandelions put behind her ear, the thin, bendy green stems wrapping around into her hair. Ron reasoned that she must've picked them from the dandelion patch out in the front yard, by the road.

"Come and help, Sir Ronald," she called to him. Ron felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, a smile already forming.

Giving his friend a mock bow, he headed down to join her, replying mockingly, "As you command, Princess Luna."


End file.
